Skate
by keepyourheart
Summary: Harlan Keese is your stereotypical skateboarder. Laken Vogel isn't your regular girl. She has curly red hair, weird clothing style, and lives on the streets. He isn't to fond of her, due to the fact that she broke his wrist. But he can't seem to stay away
1. Hot Pink

**ORIGINAL STORY:** **Skate**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Hot Pink.**

-

The blue, porcelain plate shattered as it hit the crème coloured wall. Harlan looked over his shoulder at the broken glass lying on the ground, which had just missed his head by a few inches. A look of shock was plainly written on his face as he averted his eyes up to the skinny blonde standing before him.

"Now get out," His step-mother Ashley hissed as she pointed her long, tan finger at towards the front door. Her chocolate brown eyes were narrowed as she glared at the sixteen year old boy she unfortunately had to call a step-son.

"Already gone," Reaching for the beat up skateboard, Harlan pulled open the large oak door before walking out. There was no doubt about it – his step-mother was a psycho. Not only was she in denial about her age, but she had now started throwing materialistic objects at her new step-son's head. And all of this was over a stupid job. Just because Harlan didn't _want _to get a job, she had to freak out. It wasn't like she had any room to talk. Ashley was the biggest gold digger he had ever seen. There was no question about her using his father for his money.

Ethan Keese was one of very few wealthy men left in Haven, Kansas. Being a workaholic paid off, because now he could afford anything his little heart desired. And apparently having a lot of money attracted blonde bimbos. But Ethan didn't seem to have a problem with Ashley using him for his money. Ever since his wife, Brianna had been killed in a car crash, Ethan had been alone. And it was as if he just couldn't take being alone any longer. So he married the first girl he could, and it just so happened that it was Ashley Smith.

Pushing his long blonde bangs out of his eyes, Harlan dropped the board to the ground and heard the familiar bang when the wheels hit the ground. Skateboarding was his escape – his reason to live. There was nothing else in this world more important than skateboarding. He lived, and breathed skateboarding.

Jumping up onto the black grip tape covered wood, Harlan let out a quick puff of breath before positioning his left leg on the ground. Pushing himself down the steep driveway, he turned out onto the sidewalk, passing a few joggers as he swerved past.

The skate park was dead, as it usually was at seven in the morning. This wasn't the first time Harlan had been kicked out of the house this early in the morning. Probably around the fourth time – but who's counting?

Skating over toward the long metal rail, Harlan bent his knees and jumped up. Sliding along, he extended his arms out to his side to maintain his balance. When he reached the end, he bent down to grab the side of the board as he jumped up, flying through the air until his wheels connected with the ground that leads into the bowl. As he was skating down the side of the wall his eyes connected with something – well more like someone – that was lying in the middle of the bowl. Right where he was headed.

Panicking, Harlan jumped off his board and landed on the cold hard ground with a thud. Suddenly, a shot of pain came from his wrist. Sitting up, he grabbed onto his wrist, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

Beside him, his board rolled into the side of the girl lying on the ground. She was curled up into a tight ball, her bright yellow dress with its bold pink and blue patterns, pulled over her knees. Her bright, long curly red hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" Harlan asked through his clenched teeth. He gripped onto his left wrist as he pulled his knees up to his chin, before extending his long legs out in front of him. The girl stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Looking up at him from her position on the ground, she smiled slightly.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was girly, but unlike most girls he knew, it suited her.

"I said, what the hell are you doing down here? I think you just broke my wrist!" He gritted his teeth together, as his wrist throbbed. Looking down at it, there was nothing sticking out which was a good sign. But the pain shooting from his wrist every time he moved it was definitely a bad sign. Harlan had broken enough bones to know what it felt like to have it shatter.

She laughed, sitting up from her curled up ball. "I didn't break anything. It was you on the skateboard, not me."

His eyes narrowed, and he could feel the anger surging through his veins. "You're fucking _lying _in the middle of a _bowl _at a _skate park_!"

The girl crossed her legs yoga style, and rested her folded hands in her lap. She had a small smile on her face as she studied Harlan. "Well?"

"Well what?" He asked, shaking his long blonde bangs out of his eyes, only resulting in having them fall back into place.

"Is it broken?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

She chuckled. "It's your wrist isn't it?"

Harlan rolled his bright blue eyes. This girl was just too weird. Standing up from the ground, he stomped on the end of his skateboard which caused it to flip up into the grasp of his free hand. Placing his throbbing wrist against his stomach, Harlan looked up at the side of the bowl he would have to climb up. Cursing under his breath, he threw the board up onto the ground above him and watched until it rolled out of sight.

"I don't think that is the smartest thing to do," The curly red haired girl stated.

Harlan turned on his heel, looking down at her in disbelief. "Then what do you suppose I do? Fly up there?" He paused. "No wait I got it! I can close my eyes, and when I open them I will have magically been transported. Or how about this – I can use some weird voodoo magic and then –"

His sentence was cut off, as she interrupted him. "Why don't you just wait here and I'll go get someone?"

The girl stood up from the ground, and brushed off the backside of her dress. Only then did Harlan realize how short and delicate she actually was. There couldn't have been one ounce of extra fat anywhere on her body, and her limbs looked as if you were to squeeze too hard, her bones would shatter.

"I don't need anyone," He snarled, turning away from her and continuing to size up the wall in front of him. If he was to just jump, it wouldn't be that hard to get up. All though, using one hand might be a little tough. Though, it couldn't have been any worse than the little incident that happened with the sharp rail, and the camera.

Holding his wrist tight to his stomach, Harlan reached up with his right arm and gripped onto the tiny lip, holding onto it for dear life. Using his feet to push himself up he felt his white DC shoes slipping as he continuously tried to push himself up. Pressing his elbow onto the cement, Harlan felt a hard shove underneath his right foot and before he knew it he was lying on the cold ground above the bowl.

Right after, the red headed girl jumped up with ease and started making her way out of the skate park.

All he could do was stare. Stare after the odd girl, with the weird clothes and wild hair.

When the realization that his wrist was in some serious pain, Harlan jumped up and retrieved his skateboard before hopping on and pushing himself in the fastest direction of the local hospital. The whole ride there, surprisingly the only thing on his mind was the weird girl. Why in the world had she been sleeping in the bowl? Had she had a fight with her parents, or had she just been wasted the night before?

Finally reaching the hospital, he debated whether it would be a good idea to call Ashley back at home. Even though they had gotten into the little brawl only one or so hours ago, she could most likely want to know if her step-son was hurt. Right?

Harlan scoffed to himself as he passed the three payphones that hung up on the off white wall. Like she would care – she would probably be pissed that he was interrupting her daily massage.

Much to his surprise, the waiting room was empty. The last time Harlan had been in this exact waiting room, all of the brown plastic chairs had been occupied with crying kids, and whimpering adults. But now, all were empty except for one which was far off to the side. An older man with grey hair was sitting with his legs crossed, and his head in his palms.

"May I help you?" A cheery voice pulled Harlan out of his daydream. Averting his eyes to the smiling blonde behind the glass, he inched closer to the large mahogany desk.

"Uh, I think I broke my wrist," He stated, holding up his left wrist for her to see. He smirked inwardly as she flinched. Since he had left the skate park, his wrist had enlarged quite a bit, and now had to be the size of his ankle.

"You think?"

He nodded slightly. "Uh yah."

Placing his foot on his skateboard, Harlan moved it from side to side as he watched the girl click away on her keyboard. "Name?"

"Harlan Keese."

He placed his crossed arms on top of the small lip in front of the glass. The receptionist had a look of serious concentration, as her eyes scanned the computer screen. She continued reading the names as Harlan placed his right hand on top of his wrist, trying to take some of the pain away.

"Ah ha, found it. You can take a seat over there, and the doctor should be out to see you right away."

The waiting was always the hardest. Having to sit in the quiet little room while you were in some serious pain had to be the worse than the actual breaking of the bone. As the loud ticking from the clock thundered in his ears, Harlan continued to absentmindedly push his skateboard from side to side as he sat in the hard chair. Just when the thought of leaving came to mind, the doctor emerged from behind the white doors.

"Harlan Keese?"

Standing to his feet, he picked up the skateboard and followed the older man behind the white doors, into a bright hallway that smelt of latex gloves and floor cleaner. Once inside the small room, Harlan jumped up onto the paper covered bed and held out his wrist for the doctor to examine.

After a few 'hmms' and 'mhms' he looked up into Harlan's bright blue eyes and removed his black plastic, rimmed glasses.

"Well, it's definitely broken," He explained, as he started to pull of his latex gloves.

"Great." Harlan sighed, and rolled his eyes upward. This would have never happened if that stupid girl hadn't been passed out in the bowl. And now he had to walk around with a stupid cast for the next three weeks.

Couldn't she have found a bench or something?

Watching Dr. Martin open up a small cupboard door, Harlan swung his legs out, knocking his sneaker covered heels against the bed. Deciding what color cast to get always bothered him. He had never been good at decision making, even ones as easy as choosing a color.

"Well son, I'm sorry to say but we only have one color left," The doctor stated, turning around to face Harlan. A small smile played on his lips as his body blocked the continents that the cupboard held.

"Ok, whatever."

He chuckled, and pulled out a roll of hot pink.

"Are you _serious_? I have to walk around with a hot pink cast for three weeks!"

"Six weeks actually."

"Oh god."

-


	2. Date

**CHAPTER TWO**

**Date.**

-

"Oh my gosh, Harlan what have you _done_?!" Ashley shrieked, as her tiny hands shot up to cover her mouth, in shock. "And why in the world would you choose _pink_? I've told you numerous times pink is out this season."

So much for slipping in. When coming into the yard, Harlan had assumed Ashley would be out getting her hair highlighted or something, so he had decided to slip in the back door. But just his luck, she and his father had decided to have a relaxing night and pop in a movie.

"Oh my bad – how _stupid _of me to pick an out of style color for my cast. Ugh, when will I _ever _learn to wear in season colors?" He rolled his eyes, dropping the skateboard by the door and making his way into the large, open kitchen.

From behind him, his father called. "Harlan, what did you do to your wrist?"

He held up his covered wrist over his head. "Broke it dad."

After hearing a loud gasp, Harlan spun around to face his father and Ashley. "It's really no big deal, I mean – I've had worst. Like this scar," He pointed to the long scar on his right wrist, which ran from his wrist to his elbow. It had happened three years ago, at the same skate park where all of his other injuries occurred. But out of them all, this one had to have been the worst. To this day, the scar was still visible to the naked eye. It seemed to bulge out slightly, and was the color of Barney the purple dinosaur. At school, most of the guys had thought it was cool to have a scar that deep and that long. But the girls found it repulsive. They would shriek and shield their eyes whenever Harlan shoved it in their faces.

"Well good thing you took yourself to the hospital," His father reasoned, leaning his elbows on top of the light blue island counter in the middle of the kitchen.

Mumbling a quick 'yeah, whatever' Harlan quickly grabbed his black, ripped binder and his dented up cell phone and started walking towards the front door.

"Going to school – later," He called as he walked out the front door and dropped his skateboard onto the pavement.

"Come right home after school!" Ashley shouted, her high pitch voice stinging his ears. Harlan rolled his eyes as he jumped up onto the board, and pushed his way to school.

•**°•**

"Dude!" Charlie called from his seat on the schools front stairs. Sitting around him were a few girls from their classes, and three other guys who would skate with them after school. "What'cha do?" he asked, motioning towards Harlan's hot pink cast.

Deciding to skip the whole story about the girl lying in the middle of the skate bowl, Harlan just replied with a simple I fell. He didn't see the need to tell Charlie about the crazy girl – mostly because it would just lead into a bunch of questions on if she was hot, or had a nice ass.

"So why the hell would you get _pink_?" He asked, spitting out the color name as if it were the leading cause of diseases.

"All they had left," Harlan shrugged, and started making his way up the steps and into the cool, air conditioned school. Inside, everyone was crowded around their lockers as they grabbed their books for their first class.

School was the one place Harlan hated the most. He didn't feel the need to go to every class he had, so he would usually end up skipping his last class with Charlie and the guys, and they would head down to the skate park. To him, skateboarding was so much more important than science class.

Because when in the world would he need to know the parts of a plant?

"Mr. Keese, I expect to see you today," Mr. Affleck stated, as he passed Harlan in the crowded hallway.

Mr. Affleck was his Biology teacher – the teacher that he absolutely hated with a very strong passion. He was always trying to embarrass him during class, by calling him out on something that he hadn't even done. Or by asking him what the answer was to an impossible question. For some reason he had it out for Harlan, and wasn't afraid to let him know.

This was another reason Harlan was always skipping his last class – the teacher was a complete ass hole.

When reaching his blue locker, Harlan spun in the combination and pulled open his sticker covered locker. The little door was full of brand name stickers, such as DC, Etnies, Firefly, ect. At the end of last year, the principal had ordered him to take them off, but it was such an impossible task, that Harlan just had to keep his locker instead of getting a new one at the beginning of the new year.

"Hey Harlan," Looking to his left, he saw Tiffany Smith leaning up against the locker next to his. She was wearing a short denim skirt, a pale pink American Eagle shirt, and a pair of pink and blue plaid ballet flats. Everyone knew about her not so secret crush on Harlan. But no one really understood what it was that she liked about him. His clothing style was so different from hers. He was considered a Punk/ Emo Skater where as she was a Cheerleading Prep. Those two groups just didn't mix together.

"Hey," He replied as he pulled out his math binder from his messy locker.

"So I heard about your arm," She pointed her tan, skinny finger at his cast. "That has to suck. I mean, can you still skateboard?"

"Yeah I can, it's no big deal."

She shifted her weight from side to side. "That's good."

From above them, the ear shattering sound of the first bell rang and signalled for all the students to head to their first class. But neither Harlan or Tiffany moved.

Shoving his hands into his bright red tight skinny jeans, Harlan looked down at his white DC shoes before looking up into Tiffany's green eyes. It wasn't that he was nervous, oh no. Harlan was never nervous around girls – the girls were always nervous around him. He was considered to be a little bit intimidating, because of his personality. Harlan was definitely not the nicest guy around. He was actually quite the jerk to people he didn't like, or didn't know.

"Ok, well I should be getting off to class," She stated, placing her fingers at the hem of her skirt. "See you at lunch."

Nodding, Harlan set off in the other direction toward his first class of the day.

•**°•**

His wrist was throbbing, and he was bored out of his mind. Lunch was always boring, even when being surrounded by his friends, Harlan was bored. It seemed like everyday was the same – his friends would crack some lame 'yo momma' jokes, and the girls at the table would make fun of the kids who weren't popular, or the ones who were sporting a brand new red, ugly zit. It was always the same.

Rolling his skateboard underneath the table, Harlan's eyes scanned the cafeteria as he listened to Charlie talk about some party that was happening Friday night.

Suddenly, his heart lurched. At the sight of the extremely curly red hair, Harlan perked up. The girl from the skate park – she went here. But, Harlan had been going to this school since seventh grade and he had never seen her before.

Wait, why had his heart suddenly lurched in his chest? For sure he didn't _like _this girl. This girl was the reason for his broken arm. She was the reason for everyone asking their stupid questions, and everyone bugging him about the hot pink cast.

Stopping the rolling underneath the table, Harlan fixed his eyes on the curly red hair and willed her to turn around. She was sitting a few tables in front of his, with Hollister Murphy – the girl of Charlie's dreams.

"Dude," Harlan shoved Charlie's shoulder just as he was about to yell out his punch line. After sending him a dirty glare, Charlie's full attention was on Harlan. "Who's that girl sitting with Hollister?"

Narrowing his eyes at the table, Charlie shrugged. "I don't know." And with that, he returned to his joke about some monkey and Tiffany's mom.

Crossing his arms on top of the white, dirty cafeteria table, Harlan kept his eyes on the girls' bright hair. Really, he had no idea why he actually _cared _who the girl was. What if it was her? What was he going to do, go up and talk to her?

Yeah right.

Harlan didn't go out of his way to talk to anyone. He preferred it when people came up to _him._ Plus, she was weird and definitely not someone he would be caught dead hanging out with. Her clothing style was weird, her personality (well what he knew about it) was weird, and overall… she was weird.

But she was different than everyone else, and he liked that because _he _was different than everyone else.

While all the guys at this school were wearing their loose, baggy blue jeans, Harlan was wearing tight, purple skinny jeans. His clothes were bright and in your face. They were completely different from everyone else's. He preferred to stand out in the crowd, and that was exactly what he did. His pants were all tight and skinny and the colors ranged from dark purple, to red, to bright blue. His t-shirts were all brand name, with his favourite skate brands on them. And his hair was considered 'emo'. It was long, and his bangs were swept over his eyes, constantly falling over his bright blue eyes.

"Harlan!" Someone called, bringing him back to reality. Pulling his eyes away from the backside of the girl, he turned to look at Tiffany, who had an expecting look on her face.

"What?"

"I said, do you want to come to the party with me on Friday?" She asked, as a small smile made its way onto her face.

By now everyone at the cafeteria table was looking at him, waiting for his answer. Beside him, Charlie was wearing a smirk as he nudged Harlan's arm with his elbow.

"Uh sure," He answered, his eyes drifting over Tiffany's head and landing on the girl's hair once again. He couldn't help but wonder if she would be there – hopefully she would.

"Yay!" Tiffany clapped her hands together and did a little dance in her seat, and Harlan's eyes drifted back down to hers. "It's going to be so much fun."

He forced a smile, and pushed his long bangs out of his eyes. "Loads."

-


	3. Party

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Party.**

**-**

Friday's at school were always hectic

Friday's at school were always hectic. All the students were too excited about the up coming weekend to care about their school work, or homework. So when the final bell rang, signalling that the long day had finally came to an end - and the weekend was just about to start - the kids were relieved as ever.

"So dude, you're going to the party with Tiffany Smith!" Charlie clapped his hand onto his shoulder as they made their way out of Biology.

Harlan nodded, and shrugged the heavy hand off of his thin shoulder. "Yeah. Hey can you give me a ride?"

He chuckled, and shifted his binder over to his other hand. "When the fuck are you ever going to get your licence?"

"When I feel like it."

Reaching their pale blue lockers, Harlan spun in his combination, and dropped in his tattered binder. In Bio, Mr. Affleck had assigned three pages of homework - having to do with the cells inside the leaf - but Harlan's weekends did not consist of him sitting down at the kitchen table, searching through the five hundred page textbooks for an answer that the teacher would just give out on Monday.

"Pick you up at seven. Later," Charlie called over his shoulder after he had dropped off his school belongings at his locker.

"Later."

•**°•**

Ashley flounced into the dining room, her Bluetooth headset attached to her ear. Her eyes were wide, and her jaw was slack. "No way!"

Rolling his eyes from the kitchen table, Harlan pushed his Kraft Dinner around in the glass bowl with his metal spoon as he watched his step mother drop herself down on the other side of the table. She was as bad as a the girls he went to school with – always on her cell phone gossiping about God knows what, or God knows who.

At the moment, she was bashing some other mom's outfit that she had worn to the supermarket.

Like Ashley ever went to the supermarket.

Feeling someone else's eyes on her, Ashley's head snapped around towards Harlan, and her eyes slowly narrowed into a dirty glare. Holding her thin hand over the mouthpiece she hissed, "Do you have to be in here right now? I'm trying to have a conversation!"

"I'm eating," His voice was monotone, and his eyes were rolling. First, she threw a plate at his head and ordered him to leave the house this morning, and now she was kicking him out of the dining room because she was in the middle of her gossip session.

"Well eat somewhere else, this is important and completely confidential," She motioned with her hands toward the door, her eyes boring into his.

He pushed the chair back with his legs and jumped up from the wooden chair. "Screw you. I'm going to a party to get wasted out of my mind. Later."

She was already engrossed in her conversation; to into it to even acknowledge the words that had flown out of Harlan's mouth.

•**°•**

Harlan was standing outside on his dimly lit porch, watching the small white puffs from his warm breath hitting mixing with the cold air. Charlie was always late. When he told you to be ready by seven, in Charlie speak, that meant be outside waiting at seven thirty.

Shoving his cold hands into his colourful jeans, Harlan scanned his dead street, for the Red Toyota Celica to come tearing through. Charlie had always been a reckless driver – a daredevil his mother called him - but really, his only problem was his heavy foot.

Through the large glass windows at the front of the house, Harlan watched his little sister Emily root through the 'junk cupboard' for something to eat. Of course, he knew that she did this every night – because it wasn't like Ashley actually fed her family. She was always giving Emily a hard time about her weight, and finding ways to pressure her into eating healthy. But really, all the girl wanted was some chocolate.

Sometimes he actually caught himself feeling sorry for his little sister, but that feeling quickly disappeared when she came flying down the stairs, make-up covering her young face and a small black dress covering her body. She was always trying to impress his friends – she had the biggest crush on Charlie, and she just didn't take no for an answer.

The sound of screeching tires, and catcalls broke his train of thought. When he turned his head away from the window, Harlan's blue eyes fell upon the car he had been dying to see only minutes ago. As he stepped off the porch, he pulled at the sleeve of his sunshine coloured hoodie over his hot pink cast. The last thing he wanted at this party was for any attention to be on his cast. All he wanted to do tonight was have a little fun, drink a little beer, and maybe, just maybe hook up with Tiffany.

•**°•**

The house was crowded, and the music was blasting. The lyrics all seemed to blend together, and were easily overtaken by the pounding bass.

"So Harlan, wanna dance?" Tiffany shouted, as she stood up on her toes to shout into his ear.

"Uh," He paused, and looked around him. Charlie had drifted off somewhere the second they had entered the door. "I don't really dance," He shrugged, and looked down into her green eyes.

Her face dropped, and she pursed her lips. "Oh. Well I'm going to go get a drink."

Watching her weave her way through the crowd, Harlan once again shoved his hands into purple skinny jeans and scoffed his white shoes against the linoleum floor. He had never been a big party person like Charlie. For one, he really wasn't all that outgoing or well… friendly. Harlan didn't go out of his way to talk to people, and sometimes that tended to scare them off. Though, he had heard the things kids said about him. His favourite one had to be: The-Stuck-Up-Emo-Wannabe.

Some kids really had a way with words.

"Harlan!" Someone shouted from behind. Turning around slowly, he felt his insides starting to flip. "What's up buddy?" The girl asked. She had black hair that reached her shoulders. Her blunt bangs were hanging in her eyes, which were outlined with heavy, dark make-up. Her clothes were ripped and tore in that way that everyone seemed to be doing now-a-days. Her shirt was a mixture of about one million different polka dots, and her tight, skinny black jeans did nothing for her chunky legs.

"Uh, hi," He stuttered, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Who the hell was this girl, and why did she know his name?

He hated it when random people just came up and started talking to him. It was weird, and this girl was weird. A bad weird, not a good one. He could instantly tell she was a poser. In fact, she looked a little like Tiffany's friend, Samantha. Who in fact, was on the cheerleading team.

"How are you liking the party? This is my house you know," She smiled and flipped her medium length hair.

He shrugged, for about the tenth time since he had arrived. "It's sweet."

Samantha's face brightened, even under what looked like three pounds of cover-up. "Great! So, wanna dance?"

As she asked, she started swaying her hips from side to side along with the music. Her arms were slowly rising into the air, in that MTV Spring Break fashion. He shook his head, causing his long blonde bangs to fall into his eyes.

"Come on, live a little!" Grabbing onto his skinny wrist and hot pink cast Sam dragged him farther away from the wall and deeper into the crowd of people.

When she stopped in the middle of the floor, Samantha started swaying her hips faster as she inched closer and closer to Harlan's front side. He on the other hand, stood there, his feet glued to the floor.

The beat was just starting to pick up, as _T-Pain_'s hit new single, _Low_ blasted through the large speakers, which were shoved into every corner of the living room.

Watching the girl dance around in front of him, Harlan kept his eyes glued to her forehead, just waiting for her to turn around so he could make his get away. Why did girls have to be so pushy? He didn't want to dance, so why drag him out onto the dance floor?

All around him, couples were dancing and hanging off of each other. A few of them were standing around like him, except their tongues were shoved down someone else's throat. It seemed like he was the only one _not _having a good time. Wondering why he had even come in the first place, Harlan's heart skipped a beat as Samantha spun around and pushed her backside against his front.

Overtop of her head, he saw a quick flash of bright red hair as the girl turned the corner which lead to the stairs.

Quickly he grabbed onto someone's wrist, and moved away from Samantha, replacing where he had been with the guy he had grabbed by the wrist. Harlan fixed his eyes on the corner as he pushed his way through the growing crowd. She went upstairs, she had to. Those stairs only lead one place.

Dashing up the stairs, taking them two at a time he finally reached the top. The hallway was small and stuffy. The four doors were all shut, and he was alone. She was in one of the rooms, but he wasn't about to go searching through the rooms for her. Harlan wasn't an idiot – he knew what was behind three out of four of those doors. And that was something that he just didn't want to see.

But, he could wait. She had to come out sooner or later, right?

But why did he want to wait? Why did he want to see her again, after she had caused him to break his wrist? And what was he going to say to her when she emerged?

Leaning his yellow and blue striped covered back against the dimly lit wall, Harlan let out a huge breath. He was going to wait for her, and when she emerged, he wouldn't say anything – just look at her. Maybe she would recognize him and think that she needed was an apology.

Of course – that was why he had kept looking for her! He wanted an apology, that's it.

Nodding his head, and smiling to himself Harlan watched the door farthest away from him creak open. Finally, she walked out – and right past him. She was gliding down the stairs now, and towards the front door.

Harlan pushed himself away from the wall and followed in her footsteps, pushing kids out of his way in the process. Ignoring the rude comments from the kids he had shoved, Harlan slid out the front door and into the chilly night. A sudden round of shivers spread through his body.

Up ahead, she was walking down the street away from him. He didn't blame her for leaving that lame party – because before he had spotted her distinctive red hair, he had been praying for a reason to ditch.

"Hey!" He shouted, lifting his good arm in the air when she spun around. A large grin was placed on her face, for no reason. Did she just walk around grinning like an idiot all day?

Jogging up to her, he stopped within three feet.

"Hi," She replied, her voice was as smooth as silk. Her head was cocked to the side, and a confused look took over her features – but she was still smiling.

Her outfit was stranger than the last time he had seen her. She had on a bright yellow t-shirt, with a silver Eagle painted on – by hand he assumed – and a pair of jean short shorts, but underneath them she had put on some bright pink tights. Her shoes were nothing fancy, just a pair of ratty old white Keds.

"I see your arm's broken," She stated, her smile fading slightly.

He nodded. "No thanks to you."

"Well I never got the chance to say that I was sorry for…" She paused, and brought up her slim pointer finger to her chin. "What was it that I did to cause you to break your arm exactly?"

His temper was starting to boil. His face was growing warm as he watched her stand there, playing dumb. And he had thought that she was different from all the other girls, but it turns out, she was just like them – except in weirder clothes.

"For _lying in the middle of the bowl_! Who does that, seriously?"

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. "Maybe I was tired."

"So go home."

Her smile had now faded completely. Where her bright smile had been, it was replaced by her lips forming into a tiny thin line. Her eyes were narrowed, and her tiny hands were placed on her hips.

"What? Touch a nerve?" He asked, feeling the tiniest bit of relief. Harlan wasn't exactly a happy person, and he didn't like it when people were always happy around him. Really, the only time that he was truly happy was when the wind was blowing in his long hair, and his feet were firmly planted on a skateboard.

"No you didn't. But I really should be going. Good-bye…" Her voice trailed off, as she waited for him to fill in the blank.

"Harlan."

"Harlan."

Turning back on her heels, leaving Harlan behind by himself, on the dimly lit street, she continued on her way to some unknown destination, and didn't turn around once to his surprise. Usually people would stop and stare at him, even if they had no idea who he was – though that was a rare case. Everyone knew who Harlan was even if he didn't have a clue who they were. He was easy to pick out in a crowd because of his unique dressing style.

No one really knew exactly what he was – to moody to be a punk, to skater to be emo, but to emo to be skater. He didn't exactly have one specific stereotype so usually he would just wander into the cafeteria, and sit down with whoever Charlie was hanging around with that day.

Harlan followed Charlie around like a little lost puppy. Whatever Charlie did, Harlan was right behind him no matter what the thing they were doing was. Smoking, drinking, ditching, anything. Most of the time it just landed him in trouble, but trouble was nothing new to him. He didn't care if he was in trouble, so really he didn't care what he did.

"Later," He replied half heartedly once she was out of his site.

Now that she was gone, he could return to the party. The party he was supposed to be at with Tiffany. He wouldn't doubt that she was looking for him. Talking to everyone, asking if they had seen him in the last ten minutes. She would want to dance. She would want to drink. She would want to hook up.

He didn't want to do anything.

Letting out an aggravated grunt of some sort, Harlan scuffed his sneaker against the pavement as he debated running after her. He wanted to get to know her, but then again he didn't. For some reason, whenever he was around her he turned into a complete jerk. Maybe it was because she had broken his arm, so he had to hold this nasty grudge against her. But in his head everything was different – in his head he was nice, a gentleman even, if that was possible. Ok so maybe not _that _nice, but he didn't snap shit on her whenever she said a word.

He would go after her – to retry. Jogging down the sidewalk, he kept his eyes peeled for the bright haired, crazy dressed girl. She couldn't have gone very far in a time span of six minutes. Just as he rounded the sharp corner, something hard and solid ran into him – or well… he ran into it.

"Holy fuck!" He shouted, falling back onto his butt.

"Swearing is bad for the soul," Said a soft, silky voice.

Sweeping a girl right off her feet, literally isn't always the best approach. Across from him, with her small legs extended in front of her, and her palms out behind her as she leant back on them. Her bright red hair was all over, falling softly over her shoulders and her short side swept bangs were hanging over her thick eyelashes.

Harlan pushed himself off of the cold ground and started to brush the back of his jeans off. Still sitting on the ground, the girl lowered her back, until she was lying flatly in the middle of the sidewalk. Her hair was fanned out around her head, and her eyes were fluttering closed.

Raising his eyebrows, Harlan looked around the empty street – surly if someone was to drive by, and he was standing over the girl as she laid on the sidewalk… well it wouldn't be a pretty site.

"Get up," He ordered, not really meaning for his words to come out so icily.

Her eyes were still closed as a tiny smile appeared on her face. "Why? I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You're lying on the sidewalk. That's almost as bad as lying in the middle of a skate park." He subconsciously placed his good hand on top of the cast, as memories of the fall came rushing back to him. Suddenly, his wrist started to throb as he studied the girl on the ground.

"Who are you?" She suddenly asked, her eyes opening quickly.

What kind of question was that? He was Harlan Keese – and he had already told her this. Was she stupid?

"Harlan." He sighed. "Didn't we go over this already?"

Right then he realized something. He had no clue who this girl was. There wasn't one thing he knew about the strange girl who caused him to break his wrist. Usually Harlan only talked to people who he knew – never did he go out of his way to talk to someone like he had just minutes ago.

"Who are you?"

She chuckled. "I wondered when you were going to ask me that."

Jumping up to her feet, the girl stood in front of Harlan – much closer than he liked – and stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Laken Vogel."

He couldn't help it – really he couldn't. It just sort of came out unexpected. Harlan snorted. Laken was her name? She had to be shitting him. That was the _weirdest _name he had ever heard.

Though, she was a weird girl.

"Laken?" He smirked.

She nodded proudly. "Yep."

"Right, ok. So let's be serious. What's your name? Ashley, Rebecca, Samantha, what?"

Her expression was blank as she returned his gaze with her bright green eyes. Harlan shifted his weight from side to side. Slowly, her lips started to curve upward into a tiny smile. "Laken," She paused, and watched his mouth open. Quickly, she cut in before he could talk. "And what makes you think that's not my name? Just because it's a little _unique _doesn't mean it's not real. My mom must have been a really unique person," She finished.

And with a tiny wave of her fingers, she spun around on her heel and skipped down the street. Her tights were almost shining underneath the streetlights. Harlan watched as she rounded the corner, and he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, his mouth slightly ajar.

Why was this girl so… so _strange_?

**-**


	4. Light Up

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**Light Up.**

**-**

The weekend seemed to drift by slowly, like it usually did for Harlan. Ever since the night of the party, when he had once again ran into the mysterious girl who seemed to think her name was Laken. Thoughts of her had been swimming around in Harlan's head for a few days now, and his eyes had been unknowingly peeled for her.

Today, Charlie was over and the two boys were lounging around on the two couches downstairs in the basement. Only minutes before, Ashley had kicked them out of the kitchen because she was having some 'important guests' over. But Harlan knew better than that – he knew her little gossip crew was coming over to dish about everyone in Haven. It was what they did every Sunday afternoon.

So now, the two boys were stuck downstairs with absolutely nothing to do.

"Hey, you got any beers down here?" Charlie asked as he lifted his feet up onto the overstuffed purple loveseat.

Harlan shrugged his shoulders. Drinking on Sundays had never really been a big deal for the boys. School the next day wasn't a big issue – so if they had to attend school with a hangover, then they would only do the most logical thing. Skip class. "Probably. Unless my dad cleared out the fridge, after last time."

The last time, had consisted of four beers each, and Harlan puking his guts out inf front of Ashley's gossip crew. After that incident, Harlan was forbidden to touch another beer. On Sunday.

Charlie jumped up off the couch and made his way over to the little white mini fridge that had been designed to fit into the stucco white wall. "So at that party on Friday – where'd you go? Tiffany said you ditched her for some blonde bimbo." He threw a bottle of beer Harlan's way, and took one for himself.

The two boys had yet to discuss what went on at the house party two nights ago, and Harlan was hoping that the subject of him disappearing wouldn't come up.

"I didn't ditch her," Harlan replied simply. Well, it was technically true since Tiffany _did _leave him to go get a drink. And when she hadn't returned, Harlan decided to just leave.

Charlie snorted. "Sure. But whatever, Tiffany was fucked that night anyways. You should have _seen_ her!"

He raised an eyebrow at his friend as he popped the cap off the bottle of the beer and took a long swig. "Sweet."

Charlie lifted the glass bottle to his lips, and tilted it upward. "You know, I think you should call her," He said, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Why?"

"Because she fucking likes you! Why not? She's hot and you know it."

Harlan shrugged his shoulders. Of course he knew that Tiffany liked him – but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he found her annoying, and bitchy, and he just wasn't attracted to her. He had _never_ been attracted to her, and probably never would be. She was a prep, with a silly school girl crush on him which would probably fade when some football jock asked her to a party.

Charlie chugged the rest of his beer and jumped up to his feet. "Come on," He motioned for his friend to follow him up the concrete stairs. Harlan sighed and set the green bottle on top of the wooden coffee table Ashley had purchased from Italy. There were little brown coasters sitting at each of the corners, but he ignored him.

Following his friend up the stairs and into the large open living room Harlan saw the gossip group sitting in the kitchen around the large table. Ashley was at the head of the table, flailing her hands around animatedly.

"Where are we going?" He asked Charlie, who was now shoving his feet into his green and white shoes.

"Let's go to the park – I scored some joints last night," He smiled mischievously.

Harlan felt himself perk up. "Awesome."

**•°•  
**

**  
**The park was dead, as it usually was on a Saturday like this. The swings were blowing in the wind, as if some invisible child was pumping them with their small legs, and the tire swings were spinning in slow circles.

Harlan shoved his cold hands into the pocket of his pink and yellow striped hoodie. He followed Charlie underneath the slide, and sat down on the pebble covered ground.

Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out two small, white rolled up pieces of paper and a lighter. His hands were shaking as he placed the joint in his mouth and lit up.

Suddenly a grey puff of smoke emerged from his mouth and his eyes drifted closed. Harlan followed his lead and lit up the other joint.

He tilted his face up towards the heavens and blew out a quick puff of smoke. It curled up, until it eventually evaporated into nothingness.

Placing the joint between his lips, Harlan stood up. His eyes drifted a something lying on the park bench. It was a person, that much he knew. They were wearing a green trucker hat, and their hair was shoved up underneath the cap. They were wearing a dark blue, baggy t-shirt with a tight red vest overtop. The shorts were light denim, with holes along the thighs. They were short, only covering a bit of the thigh, but underneath the shorts were bright yellow tights. And on their feet, was a pair of plain white Keds.

It was a girl, sleeping on a bench.

"Dude, look," Harlan nodded his chin towards the girl lying peacefully.

"What the fuck?" Charlie laughed and blew out a puff of smoke in Harlan's face. "Is that a chick? What the _hell _is she wearing?"

"Since when do you care what someone's wearing?"

"Never – all I care about is what's underneath," Charlie said slyly. Harlan rolled his eyes and took a long drag before throwing his joint on the ground.

It was her. He knew it was the girl with the bright red hair, and the weird fashion sense. Was she stalking him now? Because she had definitely not been there when the two boys had arrived at the park.

"I'll be right back," Harlan mumbled as he started making his way over to Laken.

The closer he got, the more nervous he became. His palms were starting to sweat, and his breathing was getting shallow.

Her head was lying on top of a small green backpack, and her eyes were slightly open. She must have heard the footsteps because as soon as Harlan was within earshot, her eyes fluttered open. At the sight of his lanky body, and straight blonde hair a smile appeared on her face.

"Harlan," She said.

"Yeah?" He asked, knitting his eyebrows.

She chuckled and sat up, crossing her legs yoga style on the rotting wood. "Just saying hello."

His mouth took the shape of an 'O' as he stood in front of her, removing his hands form his hoodie pocket, and then placing them in the pockets of his bright blue skinny jeans.

Laken patted the seat beside her and looked up at him expectantly, her large grin still plastered on her face. He could feel Charlie's eyes boring into his back, but ignored the feeling and took a seat next to her. She smelt like a mixture of roses, strawberries, and lavender.

"Do you always sleep on the streets?" He asked, his voice having a slightly sarcastic tone. Did he always have turn into a complete ass hole around her?

Laken shook her head. "Only in the summer."

She said it so easily; Harlan had to wonder if she was kidding. But she had to be kidding – what kind of girl slept around in public places?

"Oh," He said, looking down at his feet. His long bangs fell over his eyes, and he swiftly shook them out. "That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Laken shrugged her tiny shoulders and extended her short legs out in front of her. Harlan noticed that large holes took over her shoes, and the large black skid marks were starting to turn her shoes a light grey color.

"Sometimes it's fun to sleep under the stars."

"Open your window – I'm sure it has the same effect."

She chuckled, and pulled off her green hat and shook out her long curly red hair. "It's not the same."

"Whatever."

Inside the bright pink cast, Harlan's harm started to itch. He pulled it out of the sleeve of the hoodie and attempted to fit his fingers down underneath the plaster.

Moving beside him, Laken reached down over the edge of the bench and pulled up a large white hobo bag onto her lap. For a few seconds, she rummaged through until finally pulling out a pair of scissors.

"For itching," She said, pulling his cast covered wrist into her lap.

"Fuck no!" He ripped his arm away and held it to his chest. "Are you insane? What you want to slit my wrist or something?"

"No, it's for itching. I would never cut you Harlan."

Her voice sounded sincere. But this girl seemed crazy – she _was _crazy. One look at her style, and hair and the word insane instantly jumped to mind.

"Dude, what the fuck? I bring you here to get high and you ditch me for some weirdo chick?" Charlie's hoarse voice boomed. Harlan hadn't even noticed his friend walking towards them.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his mouth was twisted up into a smirk. Apparently it was possible to smoke more than one joint in a span of a few minutes. Though, Charlie always found a way.

"Sorry," He said as he stood up from the wooden bench. Charlie slapped his shoulder and averted his eyes to Laken, who was still holding the silver scissors in her right hand.

"Hey – you got a lighter?" He asked her. "Mines empty."

She shook her head, causing her red hair to bounce. "Nope. I'm sorry, but I don't smoke. It's very bad for the human body you know."

Charlie cackled and turned towards his best friend, who he had now wrapped his arm around. "Dude – who is this girl, fuckingDr. Phil?" He laughed at himself, holding his stomach with his free hand.

Harlan rolled his eyes. When his friend was high, he would always turn into a jackass. Not that he wasn't already one while sober – but it always seemed to get worse when under the influence.

"No, actually. I'm Laken Vogel," She smiled up at him and stuck out her free hand for him to shake. He ignored it and shook his curly brown hair out of his eyes.

"I don't do touching with fags, sorry."

"Charlie," Harlan warned, his tone stern.

"What?" His eyes darted between Harlan and Laken. "Oh come on dude, you aren't actually _friends _with this weirdo are you?"

He froze. Really, he wasn't friends with her – all he did while around Laken was rag on her. But whenever he wasn't around her, he felt nervous.

"Actually, we're just acquaintances," Laken provided.

"Oh, right," He looked over at his friend, hoping he wouldn't make this into anything bigger than it was. Charlie always had a tendency to blow things completely out of proportion. "Yeah."

Charlie stood still, his arm still draped around his friends' shoulders. "Aqua what?" He asked, confusion taking over his features.

Laken stood up from the bench, and slung her white hobo bag over her shoulder. "Good-bye Harlan," She looked at the blonde boy, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And friend."

Harlan watched, silently as she walked gracefully across the park her thin arms swinging at her sides.

"Dude! That chick is so…" He paused, searching for the right words. Harlan understood – Laken wasn't the type of person you could describe at the drop of a dime. You had to think it over, think her over. "Fucking weird!"

He laughed to himself as he let go of Harlan's shoulders. He reached into his loose jean pocket and pulled out another joint and lighter. Apparently his wasn't broken. "Want one?" He asked, taking a long drag.

Suddenly, the last thing Harlan felt like doing – was getting high.

He reached for the smoke dangling from Charlie's lips. He snatched it and threw it onto the ground, squishing it into the dirt covered grass. "God, don't you know those are bad for you?"

**-**


	5. Kicked Out

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**Kicked Out.**

**-**

After a few hours of watching Charlie mess around on the small playground, Harlan decided it was time to head home. Ashley was probably pissed off at him for not coming home in time for her dinner. Dinner that usually consisted of Harlan sitting at the end of the table, away from his little sister, Ashley, and his father. Most of the time he spaced out and slowly drifted off into his own little world.

A nice, perfect world that consisted of himself skateboarding all day everyday. That was all he wanted. To skate. He lifted up his left arm and shook his head at the sight of the bright pink cast. Not only did he want to skate – he wanted to skate without the fucking pink light savour covering his wrist.

Pushing open his front door, Harlan stepped out of his sneakers and made his way into the dining room, where his family were spread out around the large table, their plates all stacked high with mountains of potatoes and some type of meat – well except for Ashley, who was picking away at her dry salad.

"You're late," Ethan, his father said dully as he dug into his dinner.

Harlan shrugged. "I was busy."

"With Charlie I assume?"

He grabbed a plate from the head of the table and took a seat at his regular spot next to Emily. "Yah."

It was silent as everyone focused on their food. Usually the dinners were pretty quiet – with Harlan drifting off into this own little world, Emily always trying to sneak in a second helping, Ashley cutting her food into the smallest size possible, and well… Ethan was rarely home due to work. It was very rare that the father figure was home for a nice family dinner.

Ever since Brianna, Harlan's mother, passed away Ethan took on more and more shifts at work, sometimes leaving at four in the morning and not walking into the house until the wee hours of the night.

It was a surprise that Ashley even stuck around – but money caused people to do crazy things. If she was married to Ethan for more than a year she would get a large chunk of money when she decided that it was finally time for her to disappear.

"So Harlan, how is Charlie's mother? She hasn't came around in forever!" Ashley laughed to herself as she shook her head slightly.

Charlie's mom used to be a regular in her gossip crew, but even since she had overheard Ashley talking about how her ass had grown three sizes in the past few months, she started making her appearance scarce. Only coming over when it was absolutely necessary.

"She hates you because you said she had a fat ass," He replied simply.

She scoffed and looked over at Ethan, an embarrassed smile appearing. And popped a small piece of carrot into her mouth. "I most certainly did _not _call her bottom fat. I would never say that about anyone."

Now it was Harlan's turn to laugh. "Of course you wont," He chuckled. Lies. She was full of nothing but lies.

A few minutes passed, and Harlan watched out of the corner of his eye as his little sister reached for the pot of potatoes. Quickly, Ashley's bony arm shot out and she placed her hand on top of Emily's wrist.

"Emily," She warned. "Don't you think you've had enough?" Her voice was sugary sweet.

Emily yanked back her arm, and placed it next to her plate defeated.

Harlan pushed his chair back – he had had enough. "I'm going to Charlie's."

"What about helping your father with the basement? You said you were going to help with the second coat of paint."

"Changed my mind – later," He strode towards the front door where his tattered skateboard was lying. Grabbing it, he walked out the front door and dropped it to the ground.

Ever dinner was the same. Nothing ever changed – it was as if they had fallen into a pattern, a reoccurring rut.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his scratched up cell phone.

"Hey, Tiffany?" He paused, and blew out a breath causing his long bangs to fly up and fall back into place next to his bright blue eye. "Yeah it's Harlan. You want to hang out tonight?"

There was a giddy laugh, and finally she replied. Harlan flipped his phone shut and jumped onto his skateboard; pushing his way over to the girl he had vowed never to hang out with. Usually the only time he had anything to do with the girl was when Charlie told him to. When he told him to walk her to her locker, or to go to a party with her. If he had told Harlan to make-out with her in the middle of the skate park, he wouldn't doubt that he would do it. Harlan did whatever his best friend told him to. It was just something that happened, even if he didn't want it to. Charlie was the puppeteer, and Harlan was the puppet.

•**°•**

The front door flew open as he pushed his way up the drive way, and out came Tiffany who was sporting a large grin. She had on a navy American Eagle shirt, and a pair of tight low rise jeans. Her feet were bare, as she rushed up to him. "Harlan!"

She engulfed him in a hug and swayed from side to side before releasing him. All the while, Harlan stood as stiff as a board with his arms tight against his side.

"Uh, hey Tiffany."

She stepped back a foot. "Gosh, I was so worried about you last night! I thought something happened to you, when I couldn't find you."

He rubbed the back of his neck, completely uncomfortable. "You know what?" He said, more as a statement than a question. "I think I'm gonna go – Ashley wants me home for some… cat thing."

Tiffany's face dropped as she crossed her arms across her chest. "What?"

"Yeah I uh… have to help her with the dog."

"You just said cat?"

"I meant dog! Dog, cat, same thing right?"

She shook her head, a look of disappointment washing over her face. "No."

Placing his foot back up on top of the skateboard he pushed himself down the driveway, lifting a hand and waving goodbye. "See you at school on Monday," He called over his shoulder.

In the distance Tiffany shouted, "Jackass!"

He smiled for the first time in awhile, and laughed. Jackass indeed.

At home, his fathers' car was out of the driveway and Emily's bike was missing from its usual place beside the house.

Inside, Ashley was standing in front of the television, which was turned to Oprah, doing leg squats.

"Harlan," She puffed. "Grab me a water bottle from the fridge."

Instead of opening the fridge he grabbed a cookie from the box and sat down at the counter, watching his step mom work off as much calories as possible.

"Would you like a diet water? Or just a regular?"

She paused, her blonde bangs plastered to her forehead. "Charming. Grab it, now."

"Nah, I think I'm going to go kick some Halo ass instead," He stood up from the chair and smirked.

Her face was reddening, and not from the workout. He knew that look. The look of death she sent you, right before she was going to explode. Or, throw a plate at your head.

"Excuse me?"

Feeling a sudden rush, he squared his shoulders and looked her square in the eye. "Did I stutter?"

Harlan knew he was pushing it. She would blow up any second now. Ashley was the type of person who was very easy to upset. Her temper was like a ticking time bomb, you just never knew when it was going to explode.

"Ok that's it Harlan. Get out – now. For good," Surprisingly, her tone was calm as she crossed her arms over top of her chest.

He laughed sarcastically. "Are you _really _in any position to do that? I mean, did you actually pay for this house?" He paused. "Wait… have you ever paid for _anything_? I don't think I've ever seen a dime from you now that I think about it."

"Har-"

He kept going. He was on a roll. Finally he was getting everything off of his chest. Finally it was all coming out, and everyone would now know just how he felt. About everything.

"You're just a typical gold digging, blonde bimbo, gossip whore!" His voice rising, until it was a full on shout.

If it were possible for steam to emerge from someone's ears, Ashley would be steaming as much as a steam shower.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me that way you inconsiderate, self absorbed, naive, little bastard," Her cool was breaking, crumbling just like the porcelain plate she had chucked at his head just yesterday. "Now I said get out. Get out _now_! And do not step foot back into this house until I say so. If I so much as _see_ you in this neighbourhood I will call the cops.

"No-"

"Try me," She challenged, narrowing her eyes at him. "Now get the fuck out."

Never in the amount of time that Ashley had been living here, had Harlan ever seen her this angry. Usually all she did was flip out, throw something at him, and then kick him out for the day. She had never threatened to call the cops on him.

"Don't worry; as long as you're here I'll never be back. Dad can only put up with you for so long – once he realizes what you did he'll kick you out on your _fat_ ass."

And with that, Harlan turned around, grabbed his skateboard and stormed out of the house, furious.

Now where the hell was he supposed to go? It was going to be getting dark at any moment, which meant that he would be sleeping out on the streets. But there was a chance Ashley wasn't serious. She could have just been pissed off from gaining a few pounds.

Now that he thought about it, Harlan had noticed her getting bigger. Maybe she'd finally realized that looking like a skeleton wasn't attractive.

Reaching into his hoodie pocket Harlan grabbed his cell and punched in Charlie's message, but was automatically reconnected to his voicemail.

"Dammit," He mumbled. Now what was he going to do?

There was the option of skating around town until dark, but that would only waste a few hours. What was he supposed to do when the sun went down? Sleep in the skate park?

His heart lurched.

Laken.

**-**


End file.
